Firefly
by Ineffable Sunset
Summary: Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.
1. 1—20

******Summary: **Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.**  
**

**Warnings: **Femmeslash; Flight, Fang/Lightning; Possible Farroncest; language, etc.

**Author's Note: **My first completed drabbles—a story of exactly 100 words; it's harder than it sounds—for my own 1000 theme challenge, one of my own creation. I've not quite got one thousand themes listed, but I'm working on it. As per usual, this is unbetaed, and this entry is written all in one day. Oh, and about the title, I don't even know, but roll with it.

* * *

Firefly

**#001 — Photograph**

A smile, cool and confident, curled at those lips. Blue eyes were burning with a challenge, with purpose. Her shoulders were squared. There was a haughty edge to the way she looked at the camera. She was so sure of herself, of her choices.

That person in the photograph, creased and crumpled in her fist, was one she could no longer claim to be. Lightning had lost that confidence, that surety, long ago. Since her branding, it had all been about extracting revenge on the government that had betrayed her, but now…

Lightning, for the first time, was truly unsure.

**#002 — Acquaintances**

Sisters? Blood and genetics aside, could they really claim such familiarity? It had been a long time since Lightning had a conversation with Serah, since she had taken the time to truly talk to her. They may have lived together, joined under a single roof, but they were barely acquaintances.

For all they had grown up together, they knew so little about each other. It was as if every day, they were trying to avoid one another. Lightning was too busy with work, with providing, to pay Serah any mind. Serah had school, a boyfriend, a life outside of Lightning.

**#003 — Photograph**

What the party never knew—what Lightning will never tell them, and what the only other two to know can never share—is what tears her apart. The loss, the sadness, the guilt. They all wonder, but none shall ever know what's killing her.

The memory of those warm lips on her, the nimble fingers chasing up her skirt as their hands interlaced together. In the few fleeting moments they had stolen, Fang had stolen Lightning's heart. Even now, the Pulsian held it in crystal hands.

She caresses the tanned, smirking face and smiles; tears splatter against the photograph's surface.

**#004 — Knowing**

It was so wrong, a betrayal of trust. Fang hated herself for following Light, hated that overpowering need to _know _everything that went on. Perhaps, then, Light would had the privacy she craved, and Fang would be blissfully oblivious. Alas, she was there, and so was Lightning, illuminated under the Pulsian moon.

For so long, they—Fang included—had held her on a pedestal, oblivious to, far away from the curses of human emotions and guilt. None had known the truth; that each night, their fearless, stoic leader would sneak away to indulge her sorrows.

Eyes closed, Fang turned away.

**#005 — Home**

No matter what they felt, how little they talked, or how much they were fighting. No matter whether they were angry or sad, if they were in trouble or worse. They said things, did things they didn't mean, but it was okay. It never mattered when it came to each other, nothing did.

When it came down to it, they would always return to each other. No matter what the circumstances, what twists and turns were coming their way, they were a family.

As long as they had each other, they had a home.

The Farron sisters sheltered each other.

**#006 — Secret**

Lightning had always known things, inexplicably, even as a child. The doctors had said she was perceptive, intelligent, that she developed faster than most. Lightning let them think what they wished; never shared the truth, she was smarter than that.

Things came to her in whispers, a voice on the wind. All her life, it had protected her. The warm, loving voice was the only reason she had not been in that car with her parents, why Serah was not a complete orphan.

She would never forget that exotic drawl.

Maybe that explained why she felt so safe with Fang.

**#007 — Opportunity**

Lightning was stoic, cold, unattainable to all but the most persistent; the soldier was not built for relationships, as she'd confessed one night. Fang, who begged to differ, was just stubborn enough to try it. Fortunately, a drunk Lightning was much more…agreeable than a sober Lightning.

Guess who was practically falling over on the dance floor?

Fang drained the last of her bottle, slammed it down on the bar, and pushed away from her seat. She'd be damned if she missed what could be her only chance; who cares if she'd be dead in the morning, it was worth it.

**#008 — Children**

Lightning had become a l'Cie, gone up against a corrupted government, brought down the world for her sister. There was practically no limits to the lengths she would go to in an effort to ensure Serah's safety, her happiness. This, though…it was stretching them.

There were many things Lightning would do for her sister but, as she slowly scrubbed the floor for the third time that day, she knew babysitting was not one of them. In future, she was shoveling it off on Vanille—at least the redhead actually _liked _kids, heck, the way she acted, she practically was one.

**#009 — Sight**

Lightning hated wearing them, hated the feeling of the cool metal sitting on the bridge of her nose. She felt like an idiot every time she put them on. In the past, Serah had often chastised her for not wearing them, though Lightning still refused unless she really needed them. It was begrudgingly that she was wearing them now. Stupid reports and their small print.

Perched on the edge of her desk, watching her pour over the papers, Fang tilted her head, smirking.

"I dunno, Light. I think they're cute."

Growling, Lightning pushed her pink glasses further up her nose.

**#010 — Laundry**

Lightning had proved to be surprisingly adept at domestic skills, Fang mused, watching the soldier carefully fold one of her favorite shirts. Then again, for someone who lived such a controlled lifestyle, it really should not have come as one. Though it was a wonder there was any clothes left for the soldier to fold, considering Lightning's habit of ripping them, and Fang's back, apart with her nails. But then again, Fang did like a little pain with her pleasure…

Fang leered at the innocently folding Lightning, tongue dragging slowly across her lips. Hm, perhaps another round was in order.

**#011 — Dress Up**

They had all waited in baited breath for the sight of Lightning, decked out in the black dress that Serah had picked out for her. Lightning showed up alright, but definitely not in the dress, unless the dress had miraculously turned into jeans and a turtleneck.

Serah was the first to react, dragging her sister off into the corner for a "nice conversation." Everyone watched, utterly put off, as Serah latched onto Light's arm, tugging her off. No one said a word, just stared.

Fang just smirked at them. "Told ya. Sunshine won't dress up for no one but me."

**#012 — Vacation**

Lightning circles around the house with the vacuum cleaner for what may be the fourth time before Fang has finally had enough. Damn it, vacations were supposed to be about fun, not cleaning up invisible dust. Sure, the soldier may have done this in the past, before Fang, but Fang'd be damned before she wasted their precious few days together.

"Damn it, Light. It's clean, already." Fang intervenes, finally. "Now c'mere."

After a moment, a small, warm body draped itself over hers. Lightning sigh, snuggling into her. Then again, spending the days cuddling on the couch seemed like an idea.

**#013 — Storm**

Lightning looked into the cold grey sky, her lips twitching upward in a slight smile. She could already feel the rain on the horizon, smell it in the air. Her love of rain and storms was an inexplicable one.

The feel of rain dripping down her cheeks, the electric buzz of the lightning, the rumbling claps of thunder. Lightning loved, even as a child, to stand out in the midst of a storm. It was something that her parents had often chastised her for. Maybe that's why she chose her name; perhaps as an act of defiance, or maybe remembrance.

**#014 — Careless**

It had happened in an instant; Fang thought the Behemoth was dead. She was wrong. Lightning had sacrificed herself to save her, to protect Fang from her own carelessness. She took in the unconscious, crumpled form of the woman she loved, felled by the impressive power behind its claws, she flew into a rage. Her clan had always been characterized by two factors; their amazing strength and their dangerous tempers. Fang had both of those.

"Come and get it!"

Her lance stretched out in front of her, standing protectively in front of the bleeding woman, Fang readied herself for battle.

**#015 — Weapons**

Everything in her time had been so simple; carved and sanded, forged and shaped—weapons of her own time were easy to use, simple to master. Cocoon, however…everything they made was overly complicated, mechanical, and utterly impossible.

"No, like this." Lightning nudged Fang's leg slightly.

Sure, Fang would never understand the elaborate, mechanical masterpiece that was Lightning's Blazefire Saber. Yet, as the soldier hugged herself behind her, slowly guiding Fang into the right stances, she thought it didn't matter. The fact that Lightning trusted her enough to teach her, and her close proximity, warmed Fang more than Light would know.

**#016 — Tension**

Everyone could feel it resonating from Fang, filling the room. Lightning was stubbornly positioned away from her, chatting quietly with Hope, and from across the room, the Pulsian had yet to move her eyes. No one knew of the bet, but they could guess; usually, Fang couldn't keep their hands off Light, and the soldier didn't mind—today, Light seemed to have no interests but ignoring Fang.

The frustration was pouring off Fang in waves, and they could all see the restless way she was shifting. Serah watched with a smirk. Apparently, Fang really _couldn't _go a day without sex.

**#017 — Trapped**

Lightning had been gone for almost two weeks, and everyone who knew her was beginning to worry, when Fang finally received word. It wasn't from Lightning, but her old Lieutenant, Amodar. She had been both relieved and horrified at his news.

The cavern they'd been sent to explore, somewhere to the north, had collapsed in on the team. Out of the six sent, only two survived; a Corporal something, and Light. They were trapped for nearly two weeks with only rations and a canteen of water each, they were starved and dehydrated, but alive. She had rushed to the hospital.

**#018 — Fire**

Lightning remembered her first night on Pulse. Exhausted and drained, the kids had collapsed in front of the fire, shivering, trying to stave off the evening chill. Meanwhile, the elder members of the group, sans Sazh, went off to catch food.

That was how it was most nights; Lightning, Snow and Fang left to catch food, leaving the others behind. Vanille or Sazh would take turns cooking, and that was how it went. However, it was when they huddled together, soaking up the warmth of the fire, speaking in whispers about life, dreams, plans and hopes that Lightning truly remembered.

**#019 — Phone**

By the time they've known Lightning for a year, everyone knows better than to call her cellphone. It's a lost effort. Lightning never answers, not unless she believes it's important. Serah usually just gets dispatch to patch her through to Lightning's handset, the only sure way to have her answer.

Though, people wonder, why does she always answer Fang's calls? The huntress is known for calling for no reason, simply because she's bored, and yet Lightning picks up without fail each time. Of course, they don't know, haven't been told about them; because when it's Fang, it is always important.

**#020 — Comfort**

She puts on a brave face, leads them in the heat of battle, and hides the cracks in her heart behind that wall of silence. No one seems to notice, no one but Fang. Lightning may have been a soldier, but that doesn't mean she's invincible; she hurts, feels heartbreak and sorrow, just like anyone else, she just hides it better.

Fang can see it every time she looks into Lightning's guilty eyes; can see the way she wrestles with herself. That's why, at night, when the tears come, Fang takes her into her arms and swears everything'll be fine


	2. 21—40

******Summary: **Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.**  
**

**Warnings: **Femmeslash; Flight, Fang/Lightning; Possible Farroncest; language; WAFF, etc.

**Author's Note: **Second chapter already, that's pretty good, right? I was busy watching the TV series _Moonlight _(which has an awesome soundtrack, by the way) for the most part, so progress was a bit slow, but I got there. On a side note, I'll be on vacation soon, in about a week and a half, so I may or may not be able to update more.

* * *

Firefly

**#021 — New Beginnings**

They didn't tell anyone, they gave no hints. One seemingly random afternoon, they just disappeared. After the first two days, the frantic searching of their friends, the finally got the letter; it was passed to them by some kid, paid to deliver it to them at noon.

Serah was outraged, betrayed somewhat, as were the others. Yet, it was too late for them to intervene, the two were long gone. They said they didn't want some huge, costly ceremony; they didn't care how or where it happened, so long as it with together.

Fang and Lightning eloped together, in Nautilus.

**#022 — Everybody Dies**

Lightning sees the frantic group hovering above her, swathed in a black mist, and knows they're panicking. Even through the numbness, she can feel the residual tingle of useless cures; she's too far gone now, beyond their help.

Before she met them all, she would have felt nothing but fear and horror as her end came about. For a time, she was a selfish, unfulfilled. Now…now, having met them all, her friends, she could go on in peace, knowing they'll be safe, fine, that they'll live.

Strangely calm, she smiles, even as the blood slowly swells around her.

"Thank you."

**#023 — Father**

Lightning remembers her father, the late Cloud Farron, in only snapshots; the warmth of his hugs, the strange insight of his words, the unadulterated love for his family. It was like looking into a million different photographs. She knew so much about him, cared so much for him, for the man who had always let her be what she wanted to be, accepted the person inside.

All her life, Cloud was there for her, he was a pillar; she could never forget him.

Yet, she still can't remember what he looked like, and that tears her apart more than anything.

**#024 — Insanity**

Lightning had seen a lot of stupid, crazy things during her twenty one years; most as a Sergeant in the Guardian Corps, Bodhum Security Regiment. However, after meeting Fang, she was sure she would never be surprised again; the Pulsian woman was the poster child for crazy.

As she leapt from the sparking hole in the side of the ship, Fang let out a large, exhilarated burst of laughter. Lightning followed after. They flew through the air together, freefalling. Fang turned in the air, grinning up at her.

"Woohoo!"

Then again, neither one of them was the spokesman for sanity.

**#025 — Anniversary**

In all the years Serah had known her big sister, she had never seen her so…unsettled—not since her first date with her high school crush, Scott. Seeing Lightning anxiously forage through her things for the _perfect _outfit for her and Fang's anniversary, though amusing, was also endearing. It was nice to know that someone could soften the tough-as-nails soldier back into that nervous teenage girl again, into Claire.

Trying not to betray her huff of amusement, Serah slipped across the threshold of her sister's spacious bedroom. She put on her best, most innocent smile.

"Would you like some help?"

**#026 — Birthdays**

Lightning had been firm on her conditions this year; no parties, nothing fancy and no news. After the last birthday catastrophe, ending in a one-sided fight with her l'Cie sister, Lightning had not been very receptive to the idea of a birthday party, even a small one.

Of course, Fang understood that wish, but just because there was a no-parties clause didn't mean they couldn't have a little one of their own. Wearing her best smirk and nothing else, she wandered up behind her lover.

"Happy Birthday, Twinkie," she entwined a small hand with her own. "Come get your present."

**#027 — Pregnancy**

Serah could hear them approaching, not from their footsteps, but from the gentle complaints; apparently Fang was "babying" Light again. Still, Fang's response was firm, saying that, no, she wasn't going to let Light walk on her own.

They would never quite know how it happened, neither of the two were inclined to sharing, but as Lightning wandered into the room, stomach bloated like a blimp, Fang's arm slung supportively around her waist, it didn't really matter. All they knew was Light was pregnant, and Fang was the father.

At least Lightning, and their new baby, was taken care of.

**#028 — Letter **(Connected to #021)

Dear Serah,

I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but Fang and I are gone. Fang and I didn't want anyone to make a big deal about it but we agreed a wedding was needlessly expensive, too formal. So, we've gone to Nautilus; we're getting married in a small, simple ceremony.

By time you read this, we'll be long gone. Just know it's not that I didn't want you here. This is something Fang and I had to do. Try to understand.

Believe me, I wanted to tell you, but Fang convinced me that this was best.

Love,

Lightning and Fang.

**#029 — Awkward**

Vanille had absolutely no idea of privacy, as the inhabitants of the Farron household had learned. And, by extension, they'd also learned to keep the door _locked_, at all times. Sure, Vanille may knock, but she never actually waited for a response, just barged right in.

Of course, since the last time she walked in on the two of them, tangled together in bed, with a notable lack of clothing, she seemed to have learned. Still, Fang and Lightning weren't taking any chances. Fang may not have minded, but Lightning was pretty sure she was blushing for a week afterwards.

**#030 — Bad Habit**

Hiding the shadows, Lightning observed the smoke sitting between her girlfriend's lips, frowning. Oh, that just wouldn't do. Snaking forward, silent as ever, and as quick as her namesake, Lightning struck.

Appearing behind the Pulsian smoker, she shot a hand over the slightly taller woman's shoulder, reaching for her lips. Fang let out a startled noise as she tugged the cigarette from Fang's lips, tossing it to the floor to squish it beneath her boot.

"Smoking will kill you, you know."

Fang placed a hand on her chest, leaning her head back on Light's shoulder. "Yeah, well so will you!"

**#031 — Kill a Character**

Corporal Laguna Liore, Lightning remembered him well. The gun-toting, smiling, energetic young man had been the life of her squad once upon a time, when she was still Corporal Farron. The two of them, they had had a friendly rivalry going, definite camaraderie.

Then, on a simple scouting mission, just the two of them, a Behemoth had gotten loose from a Sanctum research facility. Young and untrained, they'd been doomed. He had sacrificed himself to save her.

Lightning placed a flower on the grave. "I'm sorry, Laguna."

Fang placed a supportive hand on her back. "Thank you for showing me."

**#032 — Appeal**

Serah, Lightning, Fang, practically the whole gang, sans Sazh, stood outside the house Fang shared with Vanille in Oerba, far away from their homes on Cocoon. It was the tail end of one of the rare times they got to visit them. While everyone said goodbye to Vanille, Lightning had cornered Fang, her blue eyes shining with mischief.

Lightning smirked, tracing her fingers between the generous swells of Fang's chest. Ignoring the stares of those around her, she tipped her head up to whisper in Fang's ear, lips brushing against flesh.

"Why don't you come up sometime and see me?"

**#033 — Allergies**

Luckily, it was Serah who intercepted Fang at the doorway, rather than Lightning. The brunette was carrying a bouquet of flowers in the crook of her arm, looking noticeably bored.

"I hope those aren't for Claire."

Fang raised a brow. "Why's that?"

"You do know she's allergic to lilies, right?" Serah asked, smiling. "She gets horrible sneezing and coughing fits, runny nose, red eyes. It's not pretty."

Fang peered at the arrangement in her arms, frowning. No, she didn't know. With a sigh, she extended them towards the youngest Farron. "Well, in that case, no. These are for you, er…enjoy."

**#034 — Fairy Tales**

As a child, Fang had never placed much stock in the village fairy tales; the idea of princesses, of princes, of wicked witches and white knights. No, it had never made much sense to her. She had been fairly logical, or as logical as someone like her could be.

However, as she placed her lips to a sleeping Lightning's—come to think of it, a white knight? _Odin?_—drew the warm body closer to her own, she couldn't help but wonder if this was her happily ever after. If it was, then Lightning was definitely her princess.

_"I love you."_

**#035 — Charity**

Even in the years after she quit her job in the military, after Cocoon's crash down, and became a Private Investigator, Lightning barely asked for anything in return. People came to her when they had no other choice, when the military failed them, when they couldn't afford to employ the services of another.

They came to her because, although she acted cold, she cared. No one else would dare risk her life the way Lightning did, and certainly not for free. The way she saw it, it was giving back to a world she had helped bring down.

She cared.

**#036 — Sloth**

Often mornings, Serah had trouble luring the two of them out of their bedroom. Sure, Lightning on her own could be depended upon the get up, but if you added Fang to the mix, the two would never leave the room unless they were hungry; sometimes, from what Claire had told her, even if she wanted to leave, she couldn't.

It wasn't necessarily the sex that kept them in bed, more so the fact that Fang, with her cuddling habit, had Behemoth's grip, and wasn't very inclined to letting go, or moving. That meant that Lightning wasn't allowed up either.

**#037 — Hidden Talent**

Initially, Fang had been skeptical when Serah had led her into the studio on the second story of their home. She knew the room held something important, hence why no one was allowed in it. As a soft, dulcet melody began to resound through her ears, Fang knew why.

Peering through the cracked doorway, her eyebrows shot up her forehead. Lightning was sitting at the bench of a polished black piano, her eyes closed, utterly peaceful, her fingers slowly drifting over the keys. Softly, she smiled, an expression matched by the woman beside her. Who knew her baby had talent?

**#038 — Toys**

Lightning carefully turned the torn, frayed little chocobo toy in her hands, smiling softly. The thought of a young Fang or Vanille playing with it, was an unbearably cute one. She could feel the warm, sculpted body press up behind her, arms slowly hooking around her thin waist, drawing her back into a supple chest.

"His name was Boko," she could feel Fang's grin against her neck, where she was placing soft kisses. "It's the last thing I got from my parents, before they became l'Cie. Vanille and I used to fight over him all the time."

Lightning smirked. "Cute."

**#39 — Pillar**

It was a mass of mythril and adamantite, like armor, sculpted flawlessly around the spire that held Cocoon aloft. It bridged the gap where, at its heart, two women had once lain in crystal sleep, the saviors of two worlds. Every time Fang looked at it, the structure that Lightning and everyone else had painstakingly created to allow them freedom, should they awaken, it tugged at her heartstrings.

From what she'd heard, Lightning had spent many sleepless nights working there, crafting the mechanical monster. She had employed many favors, called so much help. In the end, it was for her.

**#040 — Afterlife**

Lightning liked to believe that there was something, anything, after death. She blamed this on her father, her mother, and their tales of something called the Lifestream, a group called AVALANCHE, of forays onto Gran Pulse. They had instilled in her, during childhood, a belief that everyone came back together during death; Lightning liked to believe her parents were watching over her.

So why was she so surprised, after her own death, watching her Pulsian lover kill herself in her grief? Maybe afterlife wasn't all it was cracked up to be, being forced to watch, unable to help.


	3. 41—60

**Summary: **Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.

**Warnings: **Femmeslash; Flight, Fang/Lightning; Possible Farroncest; language; WAFF, etc.

**Author's Note: **Again, written all in one day. I took the day off school to do this, too. Shh, though don't tell my dad that. But really, I'm happy. This is sixty down, nine-hundred and forty left to go. **Side Note: **As for #056, yes, I know Lightning doesn't learn Firaga, but a girl can dream, no?

**Dedication: **Sox765—okay, you've made my day. This one's for you.

* * *

Firefly

**#041 — Scared**

It came right on time; the subtle creak of footsteps down the hallway, as her door was opened. Lightning looked up, as the head poked through the door, anxious as always.

"Light?"

"Come in, Vanille."

Slowly, the younger woman padded her way over to the bed where Lightning and her sleeping girlfriend, Vanille's surrogate sister, were. Lightning spotted tears trekking down Vanille's cheeks and sighed. She peeled back the covers.

"Come here."

Vanille slipped in beside her. In a motion she'd never done for anyone but Serah and Fang, Lightning took her in her arms. "It's alright, go to sleep."

**#042 — Cold**

Snow falling around her, wind whipping at her face, and absolutely _freezing, _Fang cursed Lightning for the third time that day. Naturally, their leader would choose somewhere so desolate, so backwater to spend her days; living as a hunter in the _ass-crack _of _nowhere _was as far from her old, military-led life as Lightning could get.

And, of course, Fang would volunteer to go track down the missing Farron. Unfortunately, she had elected to wear her usual gear; her royal blue sari, skimpy shorts and shirt, and tan sandals. She was freaking _cold._

_Damn, I hope I find her soon._

**#043 — Perception**

_"Don't do this Fang. Please."_

Lightning tried to place a hand on Fang's bronze shoulder, but it passed through like a ghost's. _How fitting_, Lightning thought to herself. Being dead sucked; sure, she may be eternal, somewhat, but being dead _hurt_, to see her love like this.

One moment, Lightning had been watching as Fang attempted to drink herself into oblivion, the next everything changed. The Pulsian turned, green eyes she had so loved swelling with tears, yet there was a certain amount of shock in them, in the wideness of them.

"…Light?"

Lightning's eyes widened._ "You can see me?"_

**#044 — Thought**

Fang rested her head on her upturned palm, green eyes lazily watching the various expressions passing over her girlfriend's face as Snow talked. She could slowly see the annoyance building, all in the set of her shoulders, the sharp frown, the subtle twitch in her eyebrow; most of all, she could see the tide building behind blue eyes.

Oblivious as always, Snow was continuing on his one-sided conversation. He wasn't as close to the soldier as say Serah or Fang, he couldn't see the mental curses and expletives she was throwing his way. Lightning always was a great mental talker.

**#045 — First Date**

A date, damn it, _a date? _Lightning had not been on one of those since…well, since high school. She was a grown woman now, did that mean everything changed? Because, from what she remembered of it, they'd stumbled awkwardly through that night. Was it going to be like that with Fang?

Lightning really had nothing to base it on but those corny romance movies Serah. No, she did not want to go to the movies or for a "quaint" walk on the beach—she lived right next to one. Maker, who knows how her first date with Fang would go.

**#046 — Recruiting**

Lightning remembered the first time Nabaat came to her, months before everything went down. The blond was seeking to take in some talented soldiers for training, to assemble a unique anti-Pulse task force. Lightning, obviously, had refused her. Nabaat never seemed to take no for an answer.

"You're sure, Sergeant? PSICOM could use someone of your talents. You would be put right into officer training…"

"Like it or not, Colonel, I joined the Guardian Corps for a reason." Lightning shook her head. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline your offer."

Jihl smirked. "You'll join us one day, Farron."

**#047 — Instinct**

It wasn't ticking, like the stereotypical ones she had seen in Snow's action movies; there was no helpful LCD screen to tell them when it would explode. No, only a mass of wires, circuit boards and other unhelpful things.

Lightning growled softly, the blade of her survival knife positioned directly under the black wire. Maker knows what would happen if she was wrong in her choice. She didn't have much time left to doubt herself, she knew that instinctively.

Captain Blaine looked to her. "It's up to you, Commander."

"Here goes."

Taking a deep breath, Lightning jerked her wrist upwards.

**#048 — Morning Sickness**

Fang was rudely awoken by the warm, soft body beside her jerking, followed by swift departure from the bed they shared together. Green eyes slid open as the sounds of Lightning collapsing over the porcelain bowl of their toilet, heaving up her dinner, reached her ears. Pregnancy was certainly not pretty.

"Poor Sunshine," she winced.

As the retching finally settled, followed by the distant flush of a toilet, Fang sighed. She wouldn't trade being the "father" in the relationship at all. Morning sickness was terrible, from what she'd heard and seen, and Fang had no desire to experience that horror.

**#049 — Intoxicated**

Lightning had opened the door that night to the sight of a babbling Fang in dirt-smudged clothing, being supported by Snow. She had hurried them inside the house, knowing that she wouldn't like the explanation.

Lightning shook her head, handing her brother-in-law a glass of water—seeing Fang, neither of them wanted a beer. Slumped across the couch, Fang was mumbling to herself, head tilted, eyes glassy.

"What happened?"

"Don't know, exactly," Snow smiled, taking the drink. "But I found her collapsed in a bush north of Lebreau's."

Hm, maybe she should have waited to tell Fang she was pregnant.

**#050 — Labor**

Fang certainly didn't appreciate the three broken fingers, but the doctors had been busy with Lightning, so she would have to wait to get them set. Even if they hadn't been, it wouldn't be worth it. She would rather take the pain than get Lightning angrier.

Even with the painkillers, Lightning was screaming blood murder. The morphine may have toned down the pain, but it didn't make it any more bearable. And, as Fang knew, pain made the soldier irritable, like the toothache that had nearly brought the house down around them.

She grit her teeth. "You're doing great, Light."

**#051 — Empathic** (Connected to #041)

Claire had always been an empathic, protective personality, a trait that had remained strong in Lightning. Though it wasn't necessarily something she chose to do, comforting people had always come naturally to her. Perhaps that was why, every night, she let Vanille into their bed.

She wouldn't tell Fang, the Pulsian was better off not knowing. Lightning knew that it, their crumbling relationship, was something Vanille and Serah would have to work between themselves, no matter how much it hurt to watch, even if she considered both siblings.

Lightning brushed Vanille's hair back, slowly whispering in her ear. "Shh…it's okay."

**#052 — Indecision**

Lightning was perhaps the only person—other than the three involved—who knew about the deterioration of Snow and Serah's relationship. On many separate occasions, she had comforted or talked with Vanille, Snow of Serah.

Serah's indecision was driving them apart, Lightning knew. Though it would not be easy choosing between the two greatest loves in her life, Serah had to make a choice, she couldn't keep running back and forth, that wasn't fair to anyone. Be it Vanille or Snow, either way, someone was going to get hurt.

"Why me?"

Lightning hugged her sister tighter, sighing. "I don't know."

**#053 — Hunting**

Perhaps it had something to do with her training as a soldier, but she enjoyed the euphoric thrill of running some poor creature through with her blade, as morbid as it sounded. Though inhumane, it was a sport that Fang—born and raised in a different period, a time of hunters—loved.

Many just shrugged it off, categorized it as just another thing that made them perfect for each other. No one knew exactly what to make of it. What they did know, however, was that if the two ever had a kid, they would be one screwed up child.

**#054 — Path**

If asked, Lightning would say she had no regrets, much to people's apparent disbelief. It was simple question to answer, to her at least. There was nothing she, if given the chance, would have changed in her life. Although the path to where she was may have been a rough one, riddled with trials and sorrow, ultimately, it led her to Fang. No regrets.

If her life was a mass of darkness, of veiled light, then Fang was truly the greatest gift she could be given. Fang was the silver lining on her dark cloud, as corny as it sounded.

**#055 — Protection**

Fang remembers the day she first met Lightning in Palumpolum, all fierce glares and quiet fury, like a mother Megistotherian protecting her pups. In a way, that was exactly what it was like, as the ex-soldier tugged the young boy she was guarding closer, as if to shield him.

Blue eyes had looked up, only for a brief moment, to lock with her own, as she and Snow propelled themselves down a slope of ice, riding the large man's Eidolons. In that moment, as fierce, cornered blue gaze met her own laidback green, Fang knew. This woman was for her.

**#056 — Frenzy**

The manadrives the Sanctum dished out to its employees was nothing compared to the raw power of a l'Cie, branded and cursed by Anima, fighting against the clock. With every spell that wormed its way from her body, Lightning could feel the well of power inside her, throbbing and pulsating with the thrum of her heart.

Calling upon that warmth inside her, Lightning closed her eyes and let it come to her. She could feel it, flowing inside her, resonating through her veins, as the soldiers screamed. Fire, bright and deadly, lit everything around her; Firaga.

That was for Serah.

**#057 — Rejection**

Fang knew without a doubt that if she took that plunge, there would be no way to back out. If Lightning rejected her affections, Fang would understand, but that didn't mean their friendship would remain unchanged. Almost certainly, the ease and comfort between them for which Fang had strived for would be gone; back to square one all over again.

It didn't matter though, Fang had always been a curious one; her need to know overrode all else. So, yes, Fang would ask her best friend out…as soon as she was done with breakfast, most important meal and all that.

**#058 — Cute**

She picked the strange thing up, peering incredulously at it. It was green with a big tail, dressed in a jester costume, made of soft velvet and felt. Unmistakably, the stuffed toy was a somewhat cute, cuddly rendition of the Eidolon from Cocoon legend, Carbuncle. Yet, the Carbuncle plush looked noticeably worn. There could be, Fang mused, nothing on Cocoon at that moment that suited the soldier less.

"Heh, nice."

Lightning rolled her eyes, plucking it from her loose grip with a gentle smile. "It was a gift from my mother."

"Oh, shit, Light, I—"

Lightning smiled. "Forget it."

**#059 — Relax**

Fang relishes in the way her lover relaxes unconsciously into her, seeking her warmth like a newborn might its mother's. It is something the Pulsian huntress enjoys, knowing that she's the only one who can get the woman—the stoic, unflappable ex-soldier—to curl cutely against her like this, so blissfully unassuming and blindly trusting. A certain amount of pride fills her each time Light moves closer to her, murmuring softly in her sleep.

Fang suspects that it is the most at peace Lightning has ever been since the unfortunate incident that caused her to take up her new name.

**#060 — Discovering**

Oerba is devoid of life when they arrive; the crystal dust that has settled over the town smothering color. Only Cei'th stumble around the village. Fang, desperate to know the fate of their home, buried herself in the town's endless records. It doesn't take long to find.

"They destroyed themselves," Fang muttered quietly, her fingertips whispering along faded text. "Between the creation of l'Cie and the war with Cocoon, their fear became too much, they turned on each other—brothers killed brothers, fathers killed children, and so humanity here reached their end."

Lightning sighed. "Civil war?"

"The bloodiest." Fang confirmed.


	4. 61—80

**Summary: **Lightning has seen and done many things in her life, some good, some bad; these are a thousand stories of Lightning's past, her life, and the lives that could have been. Fang/Lightning.

**Warnings: **Femmeslash; Flight, Fang/Lightning; Possible Farroncest; language; WAFF, etc.

**Author's Note: **I don't know what it is, but I seem to have this fetish for making Lightning hurt, injured or dying; I feel like I should be worried about this, but oh well—that being said, the quote in #064 is from _Final Fantasy: Spirits Within_. Also, there is a brief switch in perspective, from third to first, but it's just how it came out, don't worry.

* * *

Firefly

**#061 — Soft**

It was kind of amazing to watch the seamless shift between the fearless, stoic leader and the mindful, kind woman that appeared when Lightning pushed aside her usual walls; it could also leave one with an acute feeling of whiplash, but that was another story entirely. More than once Fang had caught herself watching the soldier fret over her little sister and Hope, who had become a sort of younger brother to the Farron sisters.

Most people wouldn't think Lightning Farron capable of patience, of kindness. Those people didn't know her, the true person Lightning was, who Lightning had been.

**#062 — Unique**

Lightning had the brighter hair of the two; where Serah's was sort of a light silvery pink, the elder Farron's was a shade all of its own. Put the two sisters together and they were undeniably related—Fang knew no one else with that shade of hair, anyway—but they were remarkably different. Lightning was calm, collected, the responsible one. Lightning was the provider, protector. Serah was innocent, blind to the cruel ways of the world, sheltered.

Sure, some may think that the measures Lightning went to in protecting her sister were extreme, but that was just how Lightning was.

**#063 — Hero**

Everyone in their team fought for something; their family, their futures. Lightning had nothing, no motivation but her own; she could no longer claim Serah as hers, because truly, she was Snow's, no matter what Lightning thought. Still, though Lightning may have nothing to return to when it was all over, that was okay with her—as long as they were all safe, alive.

Being a hero wasn't about being selfish and doing things for yourself, but being selfless and doing things for the sake of others. Snow still had a long way to go before he learned that lesson.

**#064 — Movie Quote**

"No!"

Fang gathered the bleeding, motionless soldier in her arms; twined her hand with a weak one, just as its bloodied twin curled in her hair. Despite her injuries, that her death was on the horizon, Lightning looked truly comfortable, for once in her life, finally at peace with herself. The warmth was fading.

Fang felt tears slither down her cheeks. "Don't die on me, Light. Please."

Lightning shook her head, smiling sadly. "You've always told me death isn't the end. Don't back out on me, now that I believe. " Lightning pressed her lips to Fang's. "I love you."

**#065 — Survival**

Lightning sheathed her gunblade, victorious. Barely able to move, let alone fight, the Gorgonopsid writhed across the grass, streaking the ground in a trail of red. It had fought valiantly but, as Fang had told her, survival of the fittest. Lightning had beaten it with minimal effort.

"What a mess."

Taking pity on the poor creature, Lightning used a well-placed Ruinga spell to finish the struggling wolf off. Not even so much as howling, the Gorgonopsid dropped back, jaw gaping, eyes wide open. The rest of its pack lay around it.

She turned to Snow. "You can carry it back."

**#066 — Fixation**

_Fang's staring at me, again. _Lightning's eyes flickered minutely to the right, taking in the Pulsian's blatantly staring emerald gaze from the corner of her eye. Lightning wasn't entirely blind, she had the trained sight of a soldier—Lightning knew Fang had been watching her, and for quite some time, too.

After a while, it did get on one's nerves. Lightning did get tired of never having more than a few moments to herself, especially considering Fang seemed to be everywhere of late. Lightning was really getting sick of it.

Sighing, Lightning turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

**#067 — Searching**

I've spent my life since I was fifteen being broken down, my personality stripped, and built back up again. I've spent years learning to feel less, to numb myself from the horrors and stresses of my job—perhaps I took it too far, eliminated one too many emotions in trying to provide. All I know is that I lost something, everything, along the way, and I want it, all of it, back, whatever it is.

As I look into Fang's earnest eyes, I can't help but feel a tinge of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she'll give it back to me.

**#068 — Unusual Experience**

Fang admired the taste of Cocoon's alcohol, that was one thing they could hold above Gran Pulse. People here knew how to make the best drinks—though, in saying that, she didn't think _everyone _knew how…yet Light did.

With her tongue, Fang absently swept the last remnants her drink from her lips. "Mm, that was good. You been holdin' out on me, Sunshine?"

"When I was sixteen," Lightning took a delicate sip of her own drink, hiding the subtle smile. "I worked as a bartender for a few months, just passing the time until I could join the Guardian Corps."

**#069 — Likeable**

Lightning made an earnest effort to like Snow, she really did. The trouble was, he was so good at annoying people, she really couldn't bring herself to spend long in his presence, Serah's wishes be damned. Lightning would never be sure how he did it, but Snow knew just the right buttons to push, the right barbs to fling, to get her up out of her seat, gunblade in hand.

Honestly, it was like he had a death wish. Lightning wasn't sure if it was pure stupidity, cunning or cluelessness that made Snow act the way he did. Stupid blond.

**#070 — Bubbling**

She isn't sure how it starts, what Fang said to produce such a weird reaction in her, but it doesn't really matter. All that matters is that it's happening, something so alien to her, something that has not happened to her since…well, she couldn't remember.

Lightning feels something bubbling inside her, rising through her body like a wave, unrestrained and unbroken. She is powerless to stop it. Before Fang even registers what's happening, laughter peels from Lightning's lips—deep, sultry and utterly entrancing.

Fang stared at her, smiling broader than ever. "You okay, Twinkie?"

"F-Fine," Lightning tried, shoulders shaking still.

**#071 — Trust**

Lightning knows who Fang is, even without asking, something inside her recognizes the exotic woman, swathed in even stranger clothing. Without a doubt, she knows this woman, despite the fact that they've never met, that they weren't even born in the same century. Something about the instant sense of familiarity is concerning, because the voice of reason whispers in the back of her head that, _she can't know her._ Lightning doesn't know how, but she_ knows _this woman—something tells her in the back of her mind, something elusive, like an itch she can't scratch, that she can trust her.

**#072 — Hit**

It came out of nowhere, hitting her like the waves at high tide. Something inside Lightning snapped. All of the events of the past few hours hit her at once; the loss of her sister, Serah's later crystallization, being branded, taking down Anima, Lake Bresha, Palumpolum, The Ark. Everything. In an abrupt torrent of emotion, Lightning shoved her way out of the campsite, shouldering her way past a confused Hope.

"Light?" he called after her retreating back. "Where are you going?"

Lightning didn't turn, she hid her wet eyes in the night's darkness.

"I'll be back later. Don't wait up."

**#073 — Tolerance**

Lightning had dreaded going to the bar that afternoon to inquire about how much Fang's tab was; the Pulsian had Behemoth tolerance. It could take a lot to put her down. Considering Fang had been a babbling, drunken mess last night, well. At least Lebreau was the one duty.

Lightning sighed "So, what's the damage?"

Lebreau flipped through a few papers tucked into the side of the register. "Hm, Yun…Yun. Ah, here we go, Fang. Looks like you owe me three hundred Gil for last night, Light."

"That's not too bad."

Lebreau stared at her. "It was 10-Gil beer night."

**#074 — Selfish**

Lightning never considered herself a hero.

Her whole life, Lightning allowed herself to follow the flow of destiny, where ever it may have taken her. From the death of her parents to the loss of her childhood, from her sister's engagement to the day of her branding, from Cocoon's crash down and the loss of Fang and Vanille—Lightning did what the moment called for, cared only for those she considered family. Her motivations were beyond selfish in her own eyes.

Heroes weren't supposed to be like her. Heroes protect and save because they enjoy doing so, because they _care._

**#75 — Fake**

"I made these last night, so they're not perfect. Try not to attract attention to yourself," Lightning glared pointedly at Snow. "If they're not suspicious, they won't look _too _hard at them. Get caught, you're dead."

Lightning tossed everyone fake IDs, her own tucked firmly in her wallet. Maker help them. How were they going to pull this off? Raiding a Sanctum laboratory was not something one did everyday.

"Light, you know how to make these?" Snow questioned incredulously.

Briskly, Lightning nodded. "I got into some stuff in my teens, learned a few things I shouldn't have. End of story."

**#76 — Starting Again**

It had been hard to adjust to Gran Pulse, at first.

For a time, those that survived the fall turned their backs on the reality. It wasn't until the deaths began that everyone realized just how sheltered they were; protected by the fal'Cie from the likes of droughts, famine and disease. Like newborns they were, lost and helpless. Humanity, or what was left of it, had been spread out. Some landed at the base of the crystal spire anchoring Cocoon, others were not so fortunate; landing in the Faultwarrens, the Steppe, Mah'habara. So many people died those first few months.

**#077 — Hair**

Unlike Serah, Lightning had been born with hair the color of fresh snow, complementing her beautiful blue eyes perfectly. However, a genetic quirk in her father's genes had lead to her current—or, looking at it now, previous—hair color, the exotic pink both the Farron's shared. By the time she was six, Lightning's hair was completely pink. Now, though, a white mass lay against her palm, dyed in her sleep.

_Damn it, Fang._

"I think it's nice," Serah laughed. "I don't remember you with white hair, it suits you."

Lightning fumed. "It's not nice, Serah! I _liked _my hair."

**#078 — Crossover**

Blazefire glanced off the thick blade, deflecting the deadly blow in an array of sparks. It took a series of careful flips, but Lightning pushed herself out of the man's range just in time to avoid a second. Skidding to a halt some distance away, blue eyes narrowed.

He came out of nowhere and he had come out swinging. For all she was fast, the strength behind this man's blows were enough to make her bones shudder with each block.

"Who are you?"

His thick sword tilted across his chest, his eyes thinned also. "I could ask the same question."

**#079 — Cape**

Fang had pondered over it more than once, sure, she'd even dared to ask Lightning about it once, but the soldier had not been very forthcoming. The crimson, silken material flapped out behind the soldier in the wind, reminiscent of the make-believe superheroes all the boys in her village had idolized. It certainly wasn't standard issue, that much she knew.

It was curious, though, to see such an unusual addition to the stoic, callous young woman; it added a touch of femininity, of softness where all else was veiled. Fang wouldn't, couldn't know it had been her mother's favorite scarf.

**#080 — Taking Control**

Lightning was no damsel in distress, but then again, Fang was no knight in shining armor either; the two of them simply and inexplicably, were. It would always be a point of debate between their friends over what drew them together, but none of them would ever dream of the real reason why.

Fang was a dominant person by nature, she took what she wanted without thought to consequence; Lightning was the opposite—careful, controlled, everything Fang wasn't. Lightning yearned for someone to take away that reluctant control, to offer her stability, comfort. Against all odds, Fang gave her that.


End file.
